The Others
by The Girl in the Red Jacket
Summary: A Ranger has fallen...
1. It was dark

Disclaimer: I own nothing that is recognizable as someone else's.   
  
Author's Note: Yes, I know I should be working on Angst Fest and CBTE and Hey Baby and Estel and all the others but this blindsided me. On the up side, this is completely finished so there won't be month long waits between updates. YAY!! Thanks to Mandi for beta'ing, you're the bestest!!  
  
This is pretty much unlike anything I've done before but oh well. Hope you enjoy it just the same and remember, feedback is a girls' best friend!  
  
It was dark...  
  
  
  
It was dark. The air was thick with a choking, whispering fear. Nameless tendrils seemed to snake into his body, inflaming all his senses with a searing, scarring flame.  
  
  
  
He hardly noticed at first. It was simply a twinge, a slithering shiver up the back of his neck, making the short, baby-fine hair rise as goose bumps rose from his skin. But it grew, grew until he could hardly move, could hardly breathe.  
  
  
  
It hurt, this invasion of his heart, self, soul. It brought him to his knees, made him cringe, He attempted to scream...but no sound would escape his bloody throat save some awful gurgling noise.   
  
  
  
Finger nails, sharp like claws, seemed to scrape down his aching throat, making sure he could not cry for help, though nothing save the shadows could be seen about him.  
  
  
  
He tried to whimper, clutched and clawed at his head, thrashed with his body to try to twist away from the thirsty, invisible demons. They would not be fought. They evaded his attack and drove relentlessly into him, polluting his every heartbeat. He tried to fight... He didn't want this.  
  
  
  
It was dark, a blackened torched night made for evil, for dark deeds not to be spoken of. He lay there, on the frost-tinged ground twitching. His strength, what he thought had been so formidable, was sapped from his failing body. The battle was lost, but some strange feeling once called hope...courage...stubbornness...still flowed through him,   
  
keeping the fight's heartbeat pulsing though is was pitifully thin, thready and weak. It was going out...  
  
  
  
It hurt, laying there prone to this invasion, vulnerable and helpless against the attack perverting his soul. He could not resist, could not win. He was already dead. He just refused to admit it.   
  
  
  
He tried to whimper as he felt the last of his life beat out of him, as surely as if his blood was spilling on the pavement. He tried to alert someone, anyone of his demise, his corruption. No sound escaped him. No help would come. He was alone. Alone to die, and to be reborn...  
  
  
  
It was dark that night, the night Tommy rose as one of them. 


	2. It was warm

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.  
  
Author's Note: Tommy is not a vampire. I know the chapters are short. Sorry. Most of them will be staying that way. Most of this was written in 20 min intervals as an exercise for my writing class. If you want to know about the original task let me know, it was rather fun! Thanks, as always, to the most amazing beta on the planet. :-)  
  
It Was Warm...  
  
It was warm. Tommy felt it fleetingly as he glimpsed the light inside the tiny house, sheltered by the forest spreading out on either side. It seemed so small, almost shabby, but it was so filled with warmth he could hardly bear it even from where he stood on the dirt path.   
  
  
  
He could see how the Others would overlook it. If he had not known where to find it, had not been drawn to the remembered warmth like a moth to a flame he would have missed it, this tiny, insignificant house. He thanked whatever god or goddess there was for that.  
  
  
  
He knew of the cozy, welcoming, interior. The humble, even shabby, outside was little more than a ruse. Tommy knew the inhabitant, his love, would putter in the garden around the back on warm afternoons. He remembered how they would laze in the hammock, a gift from an old friend after his love first moved into the tiny house, as the cool evening breeze settled over them, rustling the leaves in the tall trees that surrounded the cottage. He knew what love existed there, what care and peace. The outside mattered not.  
  
  
  
Once upon a time his love had not lived so. Once his love had been part of a large firm, had owned an apartment downtown, and had planned on buying a house with him in the suburbs, near all their old friends. Once his love had not lived like this.  
  
  
  
Then, a change had come of his love. He had become, in a way, the opposite of what Tommy had fallen to, he had been lifted. Unlike Others, his lover was not made into a demon but had been born as a creature that was lesser than an angel but more than a man. His powers had manifested in his twenties, but they had always been there. He had used them subconsciously before they had manifested and he became little more than a vessel.   
  
  
  
After that is had become... painful, for him to live the life he had been content with. Tommy had stood by, helpless, as the newfound and uncontrollable empathy and telepathy took control, making him violently ill on the bad days, unconscious on the really bad ones. It got to the point where he could not watch the news or pick up a paper because the guilt of having the power to heal, but not being able to save so many, made him so queasy he had lost weight for lack of appetite.   
  
  
  
In the end leaving, living away from the rest of the world, had been the only option.   
  
  
  
His love had never been one for such isolation; he had always been friendly, open, warm with everyone. Losing that interaction, even with strangers he passed on the street, was hard.   
  
Their friends had made sure to visit him often, rearranging schedules so he never went more than a day without seeing at least one of them. His smile upon their arrival, so joy filled and bright it was almost blinding, was always reward enough for any pains it took to get there.   
  
  
  
And Tommy, well, the plans for him to move in had been made. He was more than happy to make the commute into town everyday, no matter how long it took, if it meant he could be with his love and lessen his loneliness.   
  
  
  
Then Tommy had fallen, been plunged into shadows that cared not of former plans and hated his love for what he was.  
  
  
  
His love had been crushed when he had gone missing. Tommy had watched, carefully concealed by the night, his mind shielded from his love with his own, unwanted powers, as an old friend had told his love he was missing, vanished without a trace. He had watched, his heart heavy and broken, as his love simply collapsed, folding in on himself and allowing himself to be held as he wept, his carefully constructed, fragile world shattering. The shred of happiness he had held on to after the change dissolved and fell like grains of sand through his fingers.  
  
  
  
Tommy had watched him many times since that Night when his damnation had torn his love to shreds. Had watched while his love wept, spilling his sorrow into the lonely, listening night. Had watched their friends try, without success, to comfort him. Had watched the strained heart crack a little more with every day he did not appear.  
  
  
  
Finally, he could not stand it for another long, desperate night. He knew he was weakening, knew without feasting or perverting the soul of another soon he would cease to burden the world. He had to see his love, say good-bye, beg forgiveness, before that moment came.   
  
  
  
He was hidden. The black cloak of night held him in her phantom embrace. The ghostly grip chilled him further with the tears of rain that caressed his already cold body. He was unsure, nearly scared, of going any closer. It might hurt too much. He wasn't sure he could deal with the warmth now, if he could stand it now that he had been claimed by the darkness... but he had to try.  
  
  
  
The rain mixed with the tears that strained his face, though he would never admit to their presence. He had not wanted to be claimed by anything or anyone but the being that resided within the tiny warm house, the only light in the forest that surrounded it.  
  
  
  
Looking at it though tired eyes he realized how much of a hovel it must have looked to others but to him it was a palace where love had been born within his shielded heart and his soul had once been redeemed. He had chosen, one night, that the change in his love was not enough to force the love from his heart, that nothing would destroy that. What if he was turned away, now, when it was not a change of good within his love but his own damnation?  
  
  
  
What if what had been done against his will was enough to banish him from such a pure, unblemished sanctuary?   
  
  
  
It was warm and growing warmer still as he knocked on the door. He could feel it through the walls, emanating from some point inside. It just couldn't be contained, not fully, and he could feel it easing around him, tender and soothing, trying to comfort the hurt it found deep within him.   
  
  
  
It hurt. It hurt so much that he bit his lip until he could taste the copper tang of blood on his tongue, as cold as the rest of him. He knew it would hurt more if he was turned away.   
  
  
  
He was hidden, still covered by Night's shadows when the curtain fluttered and two kind eyes glanced out. The sweet brow creased in confusion before those eyes caught sight of him, hiding in the darkness, and cleared, being replaced by a haunted, worried look that stabbed him deeper than any attack he had ever suffered. The door was flung open and he stiffened, ready for harsh words and violent actions as, at the close contact, his mind fell open to his beloved's questions.   
  
  
  
Instead a hand rested gently on his shoulder, another reached up to touch his maimed face, scarred from his battle against the darkness, and the warm eyes looked at him with sorrow and love, not fear.  
  
  
  
The rain mixed with his brutally hot tears, tears that bubbled up from somewhere in his gut and ran in scorching rivets down his face. He fell into the embrace waiting for him, melted into that warmth he thought he could no longer touch, and let his incoherent sobs wash away the meaning of the whispered words of comfort.   
  
  
  
It was warm and he was safe, loved, home, in Jason's strong arms. 


	3. He was tired

Disclaimer: Still own nothing  
  
Author's note: Thanks, as always, to the wonderful, wonderful Mandi for making this coherent. And I know it's weird. It's going to get weirder, sorta. I'm post something called Grocery Store Etiquette on fictionpress.net tonight and recommend it to everyone. Cashiers, please don't kill me for it.  
  
  
  
He was tired, being shuffled into the warm, friendly house. He winced as he stepped inside, the warmth and love he could feel outside was nothing compared to what he felt when he was drawn across the threshold, still wrapped in his love's arms. It was painful, so very painful, but he would rather die than flinch away.   
  
  
  
He shuddered when those arms fell away from him. Tommy realized that is was only to go find him something dry to wear, his own clothes were dirty, soggy and cold, but it had taken so much courage to come here at all... losing the contact was almost enough to break him.   
  
  
  
Thankfully, Jason was back soon enough with a fuzzy bathrobe and two mugs of hot chocolate. It was oddly comforting, that little touch of love that could warm his clammy hand. It tasted of a goodness he had forgotten. He couldn't quite tell if it came from his childhood moments when that was all it took to cheer him up or because Jason had touched the mug and powder in preparation and his goodness had seeped into that.   
  
  
  
He was warmed, dry, as the tender hands slipped back the robe and began tending to his sore body, flayed with wounds he had acquired since the Night. It made something stir in his soul. A warmth he thought he could never touch again fluttered to life within him, coming from his love's gentle, healing hands, glowing softly now as any pain they caused him dimmed away.   
  
  
  
Tommy found himself arching into that touch, though Jason was merely inspecting his wounds. He wanted to feel that warmth again, needed to feel it. A tender smile met his hesitant gaze, and the curved lips descended covering his own, physical healing was forgotten, a more important healing had begun.   
  
  
  
He was tired, tired of being cold, tired of being frozen inside. Maybe that's why Tommy kissed back, why he let his love cover his body with his own, opening the robe fully to exposed the chill, bare skin and kissing him... kissing him.   
  
  
  
Jason sprinkled kisses all over his face and as much of his body as possible while still covering him. He barely left an inch of unmarked by the warm inviting lips. His body warmed where their skin touched, heating flesh Tommy had thought would be frozen forever.  
  
  
  
He shuddered as hands joined the lips and skin caressing him, bringing him back to life, real life. He had to suck in a gasp of air as the pleasure of simply being touched, being loved, overwhelmed him. It felt so good, almost good to the point of being surreal.  
  
  
  
He was warmed, his body refusing to cool even when the contact receded. They stumbled along the hallway holding hands, kissing and touching until they made it to the bedroom. Soon their skin was completely bare and every possible millimetre was pressed tightly together.   
  
  
  
He could think of nothing but fusing them together, and then nothing as Jason possessed him, melding them as Tommy had wanted so badly. Fire ran through his veins, fuelled by his love's own flames, heating to the point of pain. He did not care. He wanted this. Needed it.  
  
  
  
He was tired but surrendering so completely to Jason, his love, gave him more than any amount of rest ever could. 


	4. He was scared

Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
  
Author's Note: Thanks, as always, to the ever so wonderful Mandi for beta'ing. And remember, reviews are this girl's best friend!  
  
He was scared...  
  
  
  
He was scared. Lying there, wrapped among the soft blankets and warm limbs, Tommy felt a cold chill of dread slither down his spine.   
  
  
  
Jason was asleep, resting peacefully, his weight a warm comfort on top of him. He could smell the musk of their earlier lovemaking. It enflamed his nostrils until he would have insisted he could feel it physically thrumming against his skin. It did a lot to eliminate that cold that had become imbedded inside him but it could not destroy it. Not even Jason's love could do that.  
  
  
  
So utterly vulnerably... scarily vulnerable... Tommy wished he could sleep in peace as his love was but rest eluded him. He could not believe how trusting Jason was, how vulnerable he was... It would be so easy...  
  
  
  
It was warm but that warmth seemed to have dimmed. Maybe the cold was claiming him again. Maybe they were coming...  
  
  
  
He shook himself out of it. No, even if they wanted to try to pervert his love as he had been it would be useless. Jason would not be darkened. Jason would be killed before he fell; no one was strong enough to drive evil into that pure soul. Tommy knew. He had dreamed was it would be...  
  
  
  
He was scared; Tommy could smell it on him. It was a bittersweet smell, like dark chocolate when it first touches the tongue. Tommy knew the fear was in Jason but he did not flinch, did not struggle, as the attack began. He made no physical move but Tommy could feel his spirit confront the darkness and nearly extinguish it entirely.   
  
  
  
A soft, wailing, keening sound came from the back of his throat as his soul lit up the darkness being forced upon him. It hurt... It had to hurt, but it would not conquer him. Jason would die first.  
  
  
  
'So utterly vulnerable,' Tommy thought as he bent lower to lick the sweat that had begun to bead on Jason's brow. His teeth grazed the skin, tasting his life, and knowing in that moment he would never be conquered; his spirit would never be vanquished.   
  
  
  
Tommy growled deep in his throat and, for just a moment, the dark eyes met his. They reflected back their love, still there for the man torturing him, and the grim acceptance of what would come next. They seemed to spasm as Tommy plunged the dagger into him.  
  
  
  
It was warm, the blood that gushed onto Tommy's greedy hands. The smell of dying tickled his noise as he ripped into the gentle, angel creature again, drawing the dagger across his defenceless body.  
  
  
  
The dark, deep eyes were dimming, fading, but stayed locked on him as the blade sliced into the fragile flesh...  
  
  
  
Tommy gasped, coming out of the memory of the dream with a start. He was shaking, sweating, scared out of his wits...  
  
  
  
And Jason's arms were tightening around him, sleepy murmurs sounding to comfort him. It worked. Tommy knew he should be jumping up and running, running as far as he could from the warmth, so easily lost, but the touch... the voice... It worked, it calmed him.   
  
  
  
He was scared, scared of what was to come and terrified the future would mean the loss of his love. 


	5. He watched

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.   
  
Author's Note: Thanks, as always to my wonderful, wonderful beta, Mandi. This story seems to be going the way of Angst Fest 2003. Ooopsie. :-) Hope people aren't looking too forward to a happy ending...  
  
He watched...  
  
  
  
He watched with hooded eyes as his love slept, peacefully lost in untainted dreams. The expanse of skin that was laid out like a feast before him, all golden brown in the morning light, tracing playful patterns over the strong body, made his insides flutter peculiarly. His hands whispered over the soft skin and Tommy wondered how he had come to be in this moment.  
  
  
  
It astounded him that he was still loved like this, could still be loved at all. He wanted to lay there forever, to simply wallow in the sensation of being loved, being warmed, being whole again. Now that it day again, that night's pull didn't twist his thoughts… but he knew it couldn't last.   
  
  
  
The night, what tugged inside him even as a whisper now, would take him away. It would torment him until he could no longer resist that awful, hateful call, but for now, for this moment, he could be at peace.   
  
  
  
His fingers traced over the unblemished skin, so unlike his own. Once they had been the same but now…now…  
  
  
  
Tommy sighed and turned his thoughts back to the study of Jason's strong body, spread out on top of him, pinning him to the mattress. He was captured in an embrace he never wanted to escape. He wanted to languish here until the end of time. He wished he had not fallen so, perhaps if he had not it would not have been impossible.  
  
  
  
He watched, his eyes softening, as his beloved stirred and blinked open, trusting, sleep fogged eyes. They regarded him with affection and love, not fear, not hate. It scared him that trust, so much so he nearly pulled away.   
  
  
  
It astounded him that when he flinched the tender, trusting hands sought to comfort him. They touched his face, raised the shadowed eyes to look deep into the depthless pools. He saw no condemnation there but there was an awareness. Jason knew what he had become, knew what a danger he was, knew what harm he could do and still did not shy away from him. He was loved as he had been before.   
  
  
  
His fingers traced the beautiful face, trembling as they reached out to touch the skin, scared to mar that near perfection with his damned touch. Jason did not flinch, leaning into the shaky caress without fear, with perfect, utter trust. His heart felt full and heavy. What had he ever done to deserve this love?  
  
  
  
He watched with eyes glazed by moisture as Jason's face softened further with love and concern, reaching out to wipe away the single tear that trickled down his gaunt face. 


	6. He was cold

Disclaimer: If I owned PR I wouldn't be sweating that my pysch book costs $115.  
  
Author's Note: Thanks, as always to Mandi the wonder beta. Things are starting to wrap up with this story now! Enjoy!  
  
He was cold…  
  
  
  
He was cold. He was cold so often now and the night did nothing to help drive off the freeze. The frigid teardrops of water that fell upon him seemed to have seeped into his bones, invaded his body until he was constantly frozen, forever chilled. Not even the stolen moments of warmth stayed with him long after he left Jason's safe arms. He could only remember what it had been like to be warm without borrowing that heat from another.  
  
  
  
That chill hadn't overtaken his heart. That still yearned to be heated by his love.   
  
No, that heart would never be taken for it was no longer his; he had given it away long ago. He savoured those moments when his blood ran like lava through his veins.   
  
  
  
It always hurt. It hurt more than he could articulate but it was better than the alternative. It was better to love and feel the pain then simply let go and freeze further.   
  
  
  
To simply let go and truly become one of them… that he could not do. They had taken so much from him, had raped him of himself. He would NOT let them have his final shred of self, this last fistful of who he was. Jason kept that safe and he would never let them take his love from him. That was too high a price.   
  
  
  
It was cold but he supposed he should be used to it by now. The fleeting warmth he leeched from Jason never lasted long. He shook his head. Jason hated it when he thought like that. What he took away from their too brief encounters was given freely. Given to him, unworthy as he was, without pause or regret and with a smile on his beloved's face though Tommy knew sometimes it was painful to give that much away, even in the name of love.   
  
  
  
That chill had not taken his love and he would never let it. He would not allow it to consume Jason and he knew his love would not allow it either. Jason was stronger, he had been unable to die before falling but Jason… Jason would be. He knew that as surely as he knew bite of the ever present frost that was his skin.   
  
  
  
To let go and become one of them was beyond Jason. He couldn't understand it, was unable to grasp what is meant. There was a warmth inside him that could not be dimmed. Tommy only hoped he would never lose his love to that darkness that had enslaved him.  
  
  
  
So lost in the musing of his love was he that he did not notice as the shadows crept around him, stealing him away from the back alley he had been lurking in, hiding in. The blackness surrounded him and then... an Other stood before him.  
  
  
  
The figure was cloaked in black, his face obscured by a hood. Tommy could only make out the thin, cruel lips that delivered his sentence with a smirk. "You are summoned to a council of the Others where you will account for you unsatisfactory actions by facing a death battle. You are to meet here tomorrow an hour preceding this time. If you fail to do so we will hunt you down and slaughter you. If someone happens to be with you at the time of your finding they will be taken in your place."  
  
  
  
The shadows disappeared before Tommy could think to speak, taking the Other with them, and leaving him standing, trembling, in the empty alley. His mind whirled in panic. His time was up. They had discovered what he was doing but... that meant...  
  
  
  
Tommy's eyes widened as utter horror hit him. They knew about Jason! They had to! His beloved, his dear, strong, saviour, love was in desperate danger because of him...  
  
  
  
Turning away from the blackened, shadowy street Tommy fled. He had to get to his love, had to warn him.  
  
  
  
Had to stop this, somehow, he had to keep Jason safe. 


	7. Dreams

Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
  
Author's Note: As always, thanks to Mandi for beta'ing this monster. I still haven't decided if I'm going to have an angsty ending or not but it's looking that way. Oopsie. *evil grin*  
  
Dreams...  
  
  
  
The moon was obscured when Tommy burst into the little hovel. He tore into the warm home, heading straight into the bedroom as if some sixth sense had lead him there, to Jason, or as if he had done this before...  
  
  
  
Surprised eyes looked up and smiled warmly at him from the pages of the book they were reading as he entered. They turned concerned when Tommy all but flew into his arms, burying himself against the warm, pliant body of his beloved. Fingers combed through his long hair, gently, tenderly, seeking to reassure him.   
  
  
  
But there was something beneath the desire to comfort... a scent that made Tommy's nose twitch. Desire rose within him. Desire to do what he had avoided for so long, but only with Jason's help and strength...  
  
  
  
"You're safe, love. I've got you," Jason murmured as Tommy's body became tense. "What happened?"  
  
  
  
He was scared, fear and concern mingling together; Tommy could smell it on him. It was a bittersweet smell, like dark chocolate when it first touches the tongue. His mouth began to water at the thought.  
  
  
  
He could not fight the desire anymore, he acted, moving suddenly, swiftly and pinning Jason beneath him on the bed with a snarl, immobilizing him as the shadows began to swirl about them. They slunk from all corners of the warm room, choking the light and heat as they brought the darkness to tower above the two men on the bed.   
  
  
  
Tommy knew the fear was in Jason but he did not flinch, did not struggle, as the attack began, and the shadows began to obscure them both in darkness, wishing, waiting. He made no physical move but Tommy could feel his spirit confront the darkness and nearly extinguish it entirely.   
  
  
  
A soft, wailing, keening sound came from the back of Jason's throat as his soul lit up the darkness being forced upon him. Tommy shuddered at the sound, he had not had the strength let any sound escape him when they had taken him... It hurt... It had to hurt, but it would not conquer him. Jason would die first.   
  
  
  
'So utterly vulnerable,' Tommy thought as he bent lower to lick the sweat that had begun to bead on Jason's brow.   
  
  
  
His teeth grazed the skin, tasting his life, and knowing in that moment he would never be conquered; his spirit would never be vanquished. The eyes remained calm but the strong body had begun to twitch in reaction to the battle raging between them.   
  
  
  
Tommy growled deep in his throat and, for just a moment, the dark eyes met his. They reflected back their love, still there for the man torturing him, and the grim acceptance of what would come next...  
  
  
  
Tommy screamed, clutching at his head as he hurled himself away from Jason. He scrambled back, knocking over the night table and curling up in the corner of the room as the shadows withdrew. He drew into himself as tightly as possible, his knees digging into his chin as he rocked back and forth, his body shivering violently, painful, broken whimpers escaping him. He cowered like a wounded animal, wishing to escape what he had attempted, wanting to run away, save Jason from what he was, but paralyzed to move from the corner he had wedged himself into.  
  
  
  
He became aware of Jason crouching next to him, speaking softly, offering reassurances he did not feel worthy of hearing. He clawed at the wall, trying to get further away from his beloved, the man he had tried to kill, to damn! How could he have tried to turn his beloved, his Jason, into a being like his hated self, a lost and hopeless Other? He sobbed; trying to curl tighter, wishing to hurt himself, punish himself for his sins. He would be the cause of both their deaths, he knew it!  
  
  
  
Powerful arms pulled him forcefully into an embrace, pressing his sob wracked body close though he fought to get away. Jason held fast, holding him with a desperate strength, as if he were the only life preserver in the midst of an endless sea. Tommy tried to twist away but quickly found Jason's embrace was far too strong. It was pointless to try. He gave up and let himself slump bonelessly against his love, his saviour, his almost victim, clutching weakly at his shoulders and burying his face against the warm chest.  
  
  
  
Eventually his eyes ran dry and the soothing nonsense Jason whispered to him became clear as he lay limply in his beloved's arms. He became aware he was speaking, an endless, hoarse litany of, "I'm sorry."  
  
  
  
They sat there on the floor, taking and giving comfort, for a long time, until Jason found the strength to move. He helped Tommy to the bed; curling up around him as if his mere physical presence could protect his love from harm, and tucked the blankets around them. Tommy did not know how, but Jason knew what had happened, what he would face the coming day.   
  
  
  
Snuggling as tightly against Jason as possible, Tommy tried to think of what he would do come the morn but his eye lids were drooping, the emotional maelstrom he had been dragged through exhausting him. A warm hand glided up and down his body. Tender, soft lips touched his forehead, cheeks, nose, eyelids, and lips in the most tender of caresses. He relaxed, relishing this moment, perhaps the last he would ever have with his beloved.  
  
  
  
Perhaps that would prepare him, drive him, in a way nothing else could have. 


	8. Redemption

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, not even the computer I type this on, although I do tend to hog it according to my mother.  
  
Author's Note: Thanks, again, to Mandi for not killing me when I was writing this and didn't know what was going to happen next in it. It's almost over now. *evil grin* I'm not telling whether that's going to end up going a good or bad thing. I will answer questions that have cropped up and aren't so much answered in the story, like the identity of the Others, in the last chapter. So...Is everyone up for an angsty ending or what?   
  
Redemption...  
  
  
  
He had hardly begun to wake when the tickling sensation began in the back of his mind. It vaguely registered on the tail end of his fading dream, Jason's hands tangling in his loose hair, undisturbed and safe in a glen on some distant plane of existence.  
  
  
  
Peace, it was peaceful here; he had almost forgotten what that meant...   
  
  
  
Warm sunlight breezed through the branches of the trees that sheltered them from prying, damning, hurtful eyes. Those things were not here. Only them. Jason, Tommy and that growing presence within him. Not like the shadows, the Others. Softer, warmer, gentle and tender, it eased away the lingering hurts inside him, lifting the darkness out of his soul with careful nudges so it would not cling to him and ripe him away with it.  
  
  
  
The glen was vanishing, slipping from his mind as consciousness filtered in but Jason and that presence, that light remained. He did not open his eyes, did not fight the changes within him, trusted Jason, who he knew wielded that light freeing him.   
  
  
  
Jason's love, so powerful, so pure, so completing, seemed to question him gently even as it rocked him in a tender, affectionate embrace. He was asking permission to do... whatever this was.   
  
  
  
Tommy sighed softly in contentment, giving himself up to his beloved completely. Never had he felt so vulnerable or so safe. He felt Jason's smile dimly, and the gentle brush of his mind connecting as he bound them together to finish the task he had begun.   
  
  
  
Tommy gasped, heat and light flowing through him, blinding him to everything else, and burning away all traces of what had been done to him. He felt strength being poured into him, felt himself made whole again, felt Jason reach out and join with him on more levels than he understood.  
  
  
  
For a few, short eternities he remained hovering there, in that place without name or description, then slowly, gently, it receded. He felt dazed; swaying as reality settled back into his mind. It took him a few moments to regain his scattered wits but gradually it dawned on him...  
  
  
  
He was no longer cold.  
  
  
  
The ever present chill that had dogged him since the Night had vanished. His pulse rose as he realized what this meant. Jason had done it! He was no longer damned! Jason had...  
  
  
  
Tommy gave a startled, dismayed cry as he opened his eyes, intent on kissing his beloved senseless, and found Jason was slumped over, breathing shallowly, a trickle of blood running down his chin. Exhausted, pained eyes, half open and dazed, met his panicked gaze evenly, helping to calm him only slightly.  
  
  
  
Tommy began easing Jason onto his back but thought better of it as his love started hacking, more blood spilling over those pale lips. He tenderly laid Jason more comfortably on his side, frowning as he felt the feverish heat radiating off his sickly looking skin. Too much heat, Jason had pushed too hard...  
  
  
  
Reluctantly leaving Jason's side, he retrieved three wet, cool wash cloth and glass of cold water.  
  
  
  
He carefully cleaned the bloody mouth before tossing one cloth away. The others were laid on his bare chest and forehead, in hopes of dulling the ravaging heat that tore through the weak body. With extraordinary care Tommy lifted Jason's head enough to tip water past his lips. Jason sputtered for a moment but was able to slowly sip the cold liquid, cooling his raw throat.  
  
  
  
"...tommy..." Jason gasped his voice barely a raw whisper.  
  
  
  
"Shh," Tommy soothed, stroking the dark hair with great tenderness. "Hush now. You gave too much. You need to rest."  
  
  
  
"...no..." Jason protested weakly. "...you'mus...fac...em..."  
  
  
  
"What?" Tommy exclaimed. "You don't know what you're saying! No, you rest for now. I'll distract them; lead them away long enough for you to heal. We'll meet up..."  
  
  
  
"No!" Jason tried to say more but his words were lost in a bout of violent coughing. His body convulsed, prompting Tommy to gather his ailing love in his arms and hold the trembling, overtaxed body close, making nonsense, shushing noises as Jason fought for control.  
  
  
  
"...no..." Jason wheezed, his eyes drooping against his wishes, he could feel himself being pulled into unconsciousness. "...must...face...only...wa'to...en't..."  
  
  
  
"I'm not strong enough," Tommy whispered, feeling a bead of salty water roll down his cheek as Jason shuddered in his arms.  
  
  
  
Jason stilled and the midnight eyes caught Tommy's, refusing to let them go. "...if you...believed...in...yourself...half...asmu-uch...as I'do...you'd...have...n...no..doubts..."  
  
  
  
"Jason..." Tommy murmured, his eyes obscured by tears.  
  
  
  
"...hav't...nd't..." Jason slurred. "...s'ony...way..."  
  
  
  
Tommy started, realizing he was losing Jason. "Stay with me, love. Please, I can't do this without you. I need you. I need you to come back to."  
  
  
  
"...love...you..." Jason managed, his body going limp as the pain carried him away into the welcoming reprieve of unconsciousness. "...be...here..."  
  
  
  
"Jason!" Tommy spent several precious moments trying to wake Jason. It was a lost cause. His love had surrendered to what he hoped, prayed, was a deep, healing sleep.  
  
  
  
He sat on his haunches, staring at the pale, slack face of his love, his world, and let the tears drip down his face in streams of grief, pain, bewilderment and panic. He was lost. He had received this wonderful, life-saving gift but it could cost him the only love, light, he had to cling to, to see him through the darks days.  
  
  
  
Tommy began stroking Jason's hair, his fingertips becoming wet from the water that dripped from the clothe cooling his feverish forehead. It calmed him, touching his love, offering comfort even though it could not be felt. It helped him to be able to lay fingertips upon his love that were no longer damned, which no longer held the scars of his fight against the shadows. Fingers that were fit to touch the soft skin of the blessed creature that had somehow come to love him enough to let his demon skin lay against his when Tommy had still been one of the lost, fallen Others.  
  
  
  
Now he could lay in Jason's arms without shame, without feeling a sense of wrongness for soiling his beloved with his cursed touch, and he had no chance to enjoy it as he had before the Others had claimed him. He could only hope he would get that chance.   
  
  
  
He knew what he had to do to earn it. 


	9. Atonement

Disclaimer: I own zilch.  
  
Author's Note: Thanks, as always, to Mandi for beta'ing this for me. Hope everyone likes this chapter...I really liked writing at least one part of it. Heh. If anyone wants to take a guess at what be my guess, I don't think I'm the only one who's entertaining doing it before just because it's so satisfying. And just to let everyone know, when I get the time this may evolve into an original novel, but when I get the time is the important thing about that.   
  
And just to let everyone know...It's not over yet folks, it's not over yet. *evil grin*   
  
Atonement...  
  
  
  
Tommy stood, waiting for the shadows to steal him away to his death or freedom. He was calm, calmer than he had expected himself to be. His mind, his heart, felt stilled, serene, as he waited to face whatever the Others had planned for him. He knew they were expecting this council to be his execution but he would not allow that. Jason needed him.  
  
  
  
He had spent the day caring for his beloved. He should have been preparing for this moment, as the shadows began to circle him, stalk him, but Jason had been so weak, so vulnerable. Tommy had been unable to do anything but tend to him, try to strengthen him.  
  
  
  
It had not stopped Jason from deteriorating. Tommy had left him curled on his side, sweating and shivering as fever from the overload rampaged through his weak body. Tommy feared for him.   
  
  
  
He had been able to coax little more than water into the reluctant system. The broth he had found in the tiny kitchen, something Jason had enticed into his volatile stomach on nights he had appeared, wounded, at his door, had not been a success. Jason had spent countless painful minutes retching after the weak sustenance had touched his stomach.  
  
  
  
Leaving him, all alone, desperately ill, and terribly vulnerable, felt to Tommy like a betrayal but remaining there would have sentenced them both to an ugly death. The Others would get their retribution and entertainment in the battle he would participate in, or from the thrill of tearing him and his beloved to shreds. With Jason laying mere centimetres from Death's kingdom Tommy had no choice. His love was too weak and he had to protect him at all costs.  
  
  
  
So he would fight and he would not lose. Jason needed him, was too weak to care for himself, too weak to even rouse for more than a few moments before slipping back into the soothing darkness of slumber. He would survive the fight if only to return to his love.   
  
  
  
The shadows had surrounded him now, drawing him under to the meeting place. They refused to touch him, knowing he was no longer one of them. Jason had, in redeeming him, marked Tommy as his own. None could try to claim his soul without paying with their life. He would not be turned again.  
  
  
  
The shadows withdrew from around him, retreating into the clouds of darkness that spun in lazy, slow circles around the gathering place, hiding it from the eyes of mortals. Hooded figures, faces masked by shadow, and identities further concealed by scars, surrounded him, ready to pass judgment.  
  
  
  
He stood in their midst, a soft, nearly hesitant light among the darkness. No shadows dared to touch him, no cloak concealed his face, no scars marred his features. Those that surrounded him showed no reaction to the change within him, the light that had banished the darkness. He did not glow as Jason had, softly against darkness or light, standing out just a little, marked as different, but the darkness did, he noticed now, become repelled by some part of him.   
  
  
  
The air around him seemed to constrict as the shadows whispered of his redemption as if the Others could not see this change for themselves. Tommy stood tall in the centre of these demons, alone, different, unmasked, and realized suddenly how his beloved must have felt upon the manifestation of his powers.   
  
  
  
"Thomas Oliver," a low voice boomed, coming from no particular direction but seeming to come from all around him. "You have been summoned before us to answer for your actions. You have taken from only one soul in all year time as one of us. This would be, under normal circumstances, no longer a problem. One would think that if you could not stomach this life chosen for you, you would simply expire. We all know how hungry you have been."  
  
  
  
"But this soul you gain strength from is a soul of light." The word was spat as though it was something horrid and a low hissing filled the air as the shadows seemed to spasm violently. "And what you gained to sustain your miserable existence was given freely, a gift of love."  
  
  
  
"For this we may have pardoned you. If you had repented, pleaded for forgiveness, we may have shown you mercy. Instead you took this violation a step further," the voice boomed with thunder. "You allowed this being of light to soil what we had made, to mark you as his own!   
  
  
  
You are lost to us now but you will still answer for your crimes, including the last, that of the most heinous nature. What have you to say in your defence?"  
  
  
  
"I am utterly unrepentant!" Tommy's voice was clear over the growing hisses. "I do not need your absolution. I have already been redeemed by the only being whose opinion I care for but I will honour my former bonds, if only to end this once and for all. I willingly face whatever punishment you set out for me."  
  
  
  
"Very well," the voice snapped, angry now as Tommy's defiance. "You will face a battle to the death, here and now, against an opponent of our choosing."  
  
  
  
One figure, cloaked as all the Others were so his identity was indiscernible, broke away from within the circle where Tommy stood, watched with hateful eyes. This newcomer moved with all the grace of a panther, stalking his would-be prey with the arrogance and conceit of a seasoned Other, one who had taken or perverted many souls. When the hood fell away and the shadows dispersed, Tommy gasped in shocked dismay.   
  
  
  
Justin Stewart stood before him, his features marked by a single scar, a jagged line that ran from just under his eye to half way down his throat. His mouth was set in a cool smirk as he looked at his former team mate, teacher, friend, brother, with the obvious intent to kill, to erase that final scar.   
  
  
  
Others that fought against the damning of their souls paid for it in the scars that marred their bodies. The more scarred an Other was, the more they had fought against the shadows on the Night of their taking. Scars were shameful, the more an Other had the more he was tormented by the rest of his brethren. Tommy bore more scars than most Others combined.   
  
  
  
There were two ways to rid oneself of the cursed scars that not only signalled an Other out among kin but made it nearly impossible for them to exist in the world of daylight. With every soul taken or perverted a scar would fade, the stronger the soul the deeper the scar. Tommy bore all the scars he had gained on the Night, having never soiled another soul. What he took from Jason were gifts, they did not ease the battlefield of his skin.   
  
  
  
Before Jason had intervened Tommy had thought there was no way to rid himself of the scars. He had thought he was destined to bearing the wicked markings for as long as he managed to survive. Now his skin was smooth, unblemished and, like Jason's, nearly glowing in the darkness.   
  
  
  
Tommy knew if Justin killed him here tonight that final scar on the once-boy would fade regardless of what became of his now untouchable soul. He wondered, for a moment, how many souls Justin had destroyed to get him to this point, where only one final scar marred his damned self.   
  
  
  
His distraction, his momentary mourning for the lost once-boy before him, cost him.   
  
  
  
His concentration lapsed for that instant, allowing Justin the first strike, a thin line of blood appearing on his cheek, and barely blocked what would have been a second, fatal blow.   
  
  
  
Justin sneered, taunting him without words. Tommy found himself distracted. How had they not noticed Justin's fall into this dark Other world? How had no one known of his descent? When had he withdrawn, gone missing as Tommy had?  
  
  
  
He dodged as Justin lashed out, striking with the shadows. He caught Tommy's arm, tearing through fabric and skin. Tommy clutched his arm for a moment, feeling the blood oozing between his fingers.   
  
  
  
Justin laughed cruelly, he was enjoying this. Tommy knew he was. There was a maniacal glint in his eyes and dark pleasure written on the still youthful features.   
  
  
  
Tommy felt sick from the sight of it. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to cringe away, to huddle in some dark corner and cry for the unfairness, for the fate of the once innocent boy.   
  
  
  
He could barely block Justin's blows. He made none of his own and knew if the shadows Justin used to strike at him with had not been so inclined to avoid touching his barely glowing skin, his redeemed body...  
  
  
  
'Oh Jason...'  
  
  
  
He flinched more at the thought of his love than at the shadows slicing a deep gash on his side. Jason... He knew his love was too weak to survive on his own but... one of his friends would be along to help. He knew they checked in on him as they always had. Tomorrow... Tomorrow someone would be there to help him. Jason was strong. He could make it through one day...  
  
  
  
Tommy wished though, as the shadows struck again and he felt himself falling to his knees, that he had been able to spend more time in the arms of his beloved after his redemption. He wished that it was not going to end this way...  
  
  
  
He heard Justin laughing again, taking time to build up the death strike, savouring it, languishing now that his victory was secured. Tommy didn't care any longer, it was too late for Justin... He could do nothing for him. Instead of dwelling on the demon boy as death crept upon him he submersed himself of memories of his love. So deeply did he sink into their love that he almost thought he could feel a warmth growing inside him, as if Jason were there with him.  
  
  
  
He shook his head, trying to clear it. Justin remained oblivious, obviously relishing his chance to show the Others just how great he would be one day. 'No,' Tommy thought hazily, 'Not one day. Today. But only if I left it happen...'  
  
  
  
He knew it was not simply his own will that brought him shakily to his feet. Something, someone was with him, and he would know that presence anywhere. He felt strength that was not his own flowing into his battered body, felt the soothing presence of his beloved aiding him.   
  
  
  
Justin whirled to face him again as the shadows began hissing their displeasure. Tommy could see the surprise on his face that was quickly covered by a nasty smirk. He lashed out again but this time that strength that was not his own seemed to stop it. As the shadows scattered, Tommy realized for the first time what Jason must have felt like when his power manifested and he became little more than a vessel.   
  
  
  
With strength and knowledge not his own Tommy fought back. Justin struck at him with the shadows, his attacks becoming frantic as Tommy let himself be moved, feeling Jason guiding him, something more guiding him, as he drove away the shadows.   
  
  
  
Light seemed to stream from him now. Tommy could feel it originating from some point within him, guided and shaped with Jason's unseen help to create weapons against the darkness that had lashed out at him with the intent to kill.   
  
  
  
Tommy's body was lost to the simple flow of defensive, then offensive, movements as his mind struggled to keep up with the change. He could feel pain flowing through him, coming from another source than his wounds. His head began to ache as he continued his assault against Justin, who now put up a weak defence in desperation. Whispers of thoughts and snatches of feelings from the Others that watched in increasing horror reached his mind, fading in and out as he became obscured completely by the light.  
  
  
  
He came to a halt, still glowing with a blinding, piercing light. He stood in front of Justin's sprawled form. Blood oozed from the corner of the once-child's mouth, eerily reminiscent of what had occurred in the late hours of last night. The Other's eyes were wide with shock but past the bewilderment Tommy felt hatred, utter, utter hatred that would not be forgotten or erased. It made Tommy shiver to feel it crawling over his skin.  
  
  
  
Tommy mourned the boy who had once looked up to him. The almost-man before him was not that boy, nor the man he should have grown to become, but his heart still protested ending what little life there was left for him.  
  
  
  
"Do forgive us," a voice too ethereal to be Jason's whispered. "It will be painless at this final moment, we assure you, but it is necessary."  
  
  
  
Dimly, Tommy felt Jason's protest flutter with his own, to be outbid by something stronger than both of them. Tommy moved, his body, his newfound powers, not his own and something, some part of the light seemed to reach inside the Other that had once been Justin and just… stopped him with the same ease one would use to turn off a lamp.  
  
  
  
Then, as suddenly as the unexpected help had come it vanished. Tommy slumped to his knees, his head spinning dangerously. He just barely managed to retain consciousness because he knew it would be suicide to let himself go in such company.   
  
  
  
A great hissing filled the room and Tommy knew that the Others wished to carry out his execution despite his victory. He wanted to retch. All that… All that pain and he was to die anyway….  
  
  
  
"STOP." The word boomed more loudly than the hissing of the Others as Tommy realized the shadows had yet to descend on him. He wondered at that…  
  
  
  
The shadows drew up, away from the Others. Tommy would have laughed if he could find the strength to do. The shadows seemed to be… scolding the Others? He knew that there were certain rules that one had to follow after one had fallen but he had never thought the shadows would be the enforcers of those laws. Using them as tools seemed to have consequences.   
  
  
  
"This one, undeserving as he is, must live. We will not break our codes and any who do will be punished fully." Tommy supposed that if the shadows had expressions it would be clear just how nasty that punishment would be.   
  
  
  
"You," they spit, beginning to swirl around him, obscuring the seething Others from his sight, "are never to have contact with us again. We will avoid you and all those marked by you and the one you are bound to. We abide by our codes, no matter how greatly we desire to inflict pain upon you and that creature."  
  
  
  
The shadows departed, vanishing, what remained of the gathering no longer his concern. He was kneeling in the alley he had been summoned in and the first thing he did was jerk to the side and retch until his stomach screamed in protest of his dry heaves.   
  
  
  
Tommy felt as if a horse had kicked him into a brick wall. His side throbbed with pain and his wounds still bled. He knew he would have nightmares of this for years to come.  
  
  
  
But it was over. It was truly over.  
  
  
  
He could go home. 


	10. Reprieve

Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
  
Author's Note: Okay, any real cliffie's are resolved here but there's still an epilogue. If you have any questions that have not been answered leave them in a review and I'll answer them at the end of the story. Thanks, as always, to wonderful Mandi, for making this legibal.   
  
Reprieve…  
  
  
  
The hour was late when Tommy stumbled into the humble cottage, his hand leaving a bloody imprint on the doorknob. His feet had kept moving when he thought he would collapse and he knew if he had fallen he would have crawled to get here.   
  
  
  
He was safe now. Safe. Even if he died tonight he would die with that knowledge. No Other could touch him any longer.  
  
  
  
His mind was filled with thoughts of his beloved Jason. He prayed that his love still lived, that the guidance and strength he had leant during the battle had not been too much for him to give. He hoped his love had been able to keep his promise…  
  
  
  
There was no sign of life upon entering the dimly lit room but no sign of death either. Jason lay on his side, breathing too shallowly for Tommy to see or not breathing at all. The cloths on his forehead and chest were drooping; signalling that at some point Jason had attempted to move but had had no strength to fix them.  
  
  
  
Tommy stumbled toward the bed, his heart pounding so hard he could feel it throughout his body. He took in the sight of his love laying so still and so pale he looked like some fallen marble statue. It made him feel ill to witness it but he refused to look away, vowing if he received the chance he would do anything to prevent his beloved from repeating this horrid experience.   
  
  
  
Tommy ghosted his hand over Jason's pale cheek. A tiny smile flickered across the tired, drawn face as a hacking cough broke the silence of the slightly parted lips. "...knew you'd...win..."  
  
  
  
"I wouldn't have without you," Tommy whispered, keeping his voice quiet. Jason's world was one of utmost pain; he did not want to add to that.  
  
  
  
"...we both...take from...an'...give't...each othe...er..." Jason murmured, opening his dark, fever bright eyes as much as he was able. "...my heart...would'e...dead with't...you..."  
  
  
  
Tommy had to close his eyes against his tears and draw in a shaky breath. "I love you too. You are everything to me."  
  
  
  
Jason's fingers moved in a slow, soft, brushing motion against the warm skin, against the side of the man that hovered over him. His body did not feel his own and every fibre of his being throbbed with pain dulled by the other pains in his body. He had pushed so much to redeem his love, give him strength, and had come close to losing himself in the process. Just a little more and he could sleep again, regain his own strength.  
  
  
  
Tommy's gentle smile turned into an astonished expression when he felt tiny warm tingles around his wound. Jason's hand glowed softly as it reached weakly through the torn fabric of his shirt.   
  
  
  
The wound was mending itself.   
  
  
  
Tommy stared at his love for a moment before gently removing the helping hand. He saw the pain, the exhaustion, on Jason's already too pale face. He could not let his beloved give him anymore. Not at risk to himself.  
  
  
  
"...no...gotta start...it..." Jason whispered. His fingers curled around the ones holding his hand away from the wound and, with the last of his strength, pushed both their hands against the jagged cut.  
  
  
  
Tommy gasped in surprised pain at the contact but Jason held firm. Slowly, too slowly for Jason's liking, the glow spread over Tommy's hand as well, healing energy flowing from both of them to heal the cut. Satisfied the process had started, Jason let his hand fall away. He seemed to shrink further into the bed, utterly spent. He struggled to stay conscious, only managing to lift his eyelids a fraction so he could watch the look of bewildered ecstasy playing across his lover's face through tiny slits.  
  
  
  
Tommy could not move as Jason fell back, collapsing onto the bed. His hand remained pressed over his wound; he could feel the muscles in his hand spasm as flesh and muscle began to repair themselves beneath his palm.   
  
  
  
His hand felt hot and he knew if his eyes had not been clenched shut in concentration he would have seen it glowing dimly.   
  
  
  
He gasped as the wound sealed, nothing left of it except a faint red mark on his skin that would fade within days. He opened his eyes, feeling slightly woozy and incredibly alive. He realized vaguely that his other wounds, the cuts left by the shadows, had also disappeared.  
  
  
  
"...s'plain...lat..er..." Jason wheezed, seeing the astonishment and questions in Tommy's eyes.   
  
  
  
Tommy nodded, hesitating for a moment. Something... more had happened when Jason redeemed him. He was not quite sure what yet but... maybe...  
  
  
  
Tommy leaned over Jason, kissing his still feverish brow, and fed energy into him. It was as clumsy and awkward as a baby bird attempting to fly for the first time, but it was what Jason needed to stop him from teetering between everlasting sleep and a healing rest. He let Tommy use his shaky, newfound powers for a few moments; enough to jump start his own healing powers, and then weakly batted his hands away.  
  
  
  
"...enough..." He whispered, his voice slightly, but noticeably, stronger. "...thanks... but ...you...need to...heal...too..."  
  
  
  
"But..." Tommy began.  
  
  
  
"...I'll...be fine...now..." Jason assured him. "...just...need...rest..."  
  
  
  
"Okay," Tommy whispered, curling around Jason, keeping him as close as possible. "You rest. Everything's okay now."  
  
  
  
Jason managed a weak grin as he sighed, letting his body settle against Tommy, trusting his love to take care of him. "...knew...it would...be..."  
  
  
  
"Mmm." Tommy rested his cheek against the dark head as Jason drifted off, knowing, trusting, that they were safe. 


	11. Peace

Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
  
Author's Note: YAY!!! It's done! Thanks to Mandi for being such an awesome beta, as always. Questions will be answered at the end of the chapter.  
  
Peace...  
  
  
  
He smiled, watching his beloved doze, swathed in blankets to keep the chill away and lying on an array of pillows in the early afternoon sunlight. Jason was still as weak as a newborn, they had had to carry him out here, but he was recovering slowly.  
  
  
  
Tommy, on the other hand, was as good as new, better than new, really. Jason had rarely used his powers before the morning he redeemed his fallen love, he had been used as a vessel by whatever higher powers there were but he had consciously used his own powers very little. Doing so to redeem Tommy, which was a tremendous undertaking, had nearly killed him.  
  
  
  
It was only by the whimsy and good nature of somebody or something more powerful than Jason that he had survived at all. He should have died. He shouldn't have been able to help Tommy so much in the battle and definitely shouldn't have been able to help him, jumpstarting Tommy's own new powers, afterwards.   
  
  
  
But in sacrificing himself so Tommy could be whole once more someone had granted him reprieve and he had been pushed past that awkward stage where he had been little more than a tool. Now... Tommy wasn't quite sure what he was now but he would be stronger when he recovered and his powers, they were his and under his control. They wouldn't be a curse for him any longer. They wouldn't hurt him anymore.  
  
  
  
The lack of knowledge Jason had when redeeming Tommy had another side effect as well. He had pushed Tommy past what he had meant to, making him something like Jason had been rather than human again.   
  
  
  
When Jason had first realized what he had done he had been horrified. He had been floating in a haze of fever dreams, only half aware, when he began to sense Tommy, began to "see" what was happening to him. He had instinctively reached out to help him and found himself inadvertently causing Tommy's powers to manifest.  
  
  
  
He would have died then had it not been for the surge of strength that flowed into him, transforming him into something more than he had been.   
  
  
  
He didn't know what he was now only that the voices had stopped, the shards of glass in his brain that had been other people's thoughts and emotions had disappeared. He could really live again.  
  
  
  
The transcendence had also given him knowledge he had not been able to grasp before. He knew his powers, knew how to use them, knew how to control them.   
  
  
  
Knew how to shield Tommy from what he had gone through.  
  
  
  
He had passed out before the battle had ended, his whole world aflame with pain, but he had known Tommy would win, had counted on it with all his being. He knew if Tommy was not victorious he would not be long to follow him into Death.   
  
  
  
Tommy's presence in the room had stirred him from his rest. He was vaguely aware of their first moments together after the battle, fuzzy from fever and pain even after the warmth and strength Tommy shared with him. The next few days, in fact, were a blur and there were times Tommy had worried for him.  
  
  
  
But he was recovering now, weak but healing. Tommy would settle for that. They had time now. As much as they needed.   
  
  
  
Tommy sighed. He did have some fences to mend that could not wait forever though. Vanishing as he had hurt many people. When Billy had discovered them curled up together the morning after the battle he had been livid. Coming to check on Jason, as he had been doing all along, and finding the man who had walked out on them all there had produced a rather large reaction in the other man.  
  
  
  
He had begun to rant but had quickly stopped when Tommy curled into a foetal position, as if trying to shield himself, and began whimpering in a way that was eerily reminiscent of how Jason had when the thoughts had become too much for him.   
  
  
  
Billy had put his need for an explanation on hold, the poor condition of his two friends registering, to care for them. He stayed with them for two days, until Tommy had recovered fully, and had been a frequent visitor since.  
  
  
  
One of the first things Tommy had done with his powers was mark him. It was the first thing Jason had taught him when his beloved regained consciousness, too weak to do it himself. They did not want the Others to claim any of their friends as revenge.  
  
  
  
They did not them to be damned as Tommy had, as Justin had.  
  
  
  
Tommy heaved a sigh; the memory of the boy still hurt him greatly. They had let him fall through the cracks, had hardly noticed when he had disappeared from their lives. He felt he had failed the boy and the guilt would have been suffocating.  
  
  
  
Would have been, but he needed to focus on helping Jason heal.   
  
  
  
Later he could mourn. Now they needed to recover.   
  
  
  
The tickle of fingers brushing his wrist made him look down, smiling as he focused on his love, the midnight eyes returning his gaze. Jason had insisted upon leaving the house today, saying he would go stir crazy if he spent anymore time resting inside.   
  
  
  
Billy and Tommy had bundled him up well before helping him into the backyard, his legs still too shaky and weak to support him. He was not worried, even if Tommy fretted constantly; it had only been a week or so since he had been pushed to the brink of Death three times in less than twenty four hours. He would recover fully, he said he knew he would, it would just take time.  
  
  
  
Tommy knew Jason was privy to knowledge he was not so all he could do was trust it would be okay.   
  
  
  
They were fragile, these few moments of peace with Jason settled in his arms but Tommy knew to savour them. He also knew there would be move.   
  
  
  
His fingers drifted through the dark hair just happy to be with his beloved. Smiling softly he whispered, "I love you."  
  
  
  
Jason smiled in return and Tommy felt warmth fizzle up inside him, knowing in that moment that they would spend the rest of their existence together, no matter how long it was.   
  
  
  
"I love you too."  
  
**************************************  
  
Questions:  
  
What are the Others?: They are demons that "eat" people's souls or pervert them and make them into Others as well. Their weapons are the shadows. Besides that, I don't know. I just made them up.  
  
Why did you kill Justin?: Because it needed to be someone who Tommy had some personal attatchment to. And because I hate Justin. HATE HIM! Besides the normal hate I decided I was going to kill him in this story when Mandi got stuck on his chapter which means she isn't getting any further in her story which I really, really, really want to see more of!! Damn the Spore!  
  
Is this still a school project?: No, the course has ended and so has my time at that school actually. This started out with the first chapter as just a scene that popped into my head when we had to write something for "journal time" in writer's craft. I basically used the time for working on stories. Got perfect marks on it too. From there is became a short story and from the short story I'm working on making it an original novel. There are a few changes but it's inspired by this. If anyone wants details e-mail me!  
  
What is Jason?: At the end? An angel, basically. Throughout the story? He's an angel like being but he can't control his powers fully. This makes him very vulnerable. He's telepathic and empathtic and can heal and all sorts of fun things. His redeeming Tommy is a way of healing him on a spiritual level. He can heal physically as well.   
  
Well that's it. Hope you enjoyed the story and remember, feedback is this girl's best friend! 


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